


vitamin

by cabinbythesea



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Body Worship, Canon Compliant, Cuddling & Snuggling, Dirty Talk, Drug Use, Dry Humping, Flirting, Fluff and Smut, Friends to Lovers, Friendship/Love, Grinding, Hair Kink, Hair-pulling, Kissing, Love Bites, M/M, Marijuana, Pet Names, Picnics, Shaving, Teasing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-27
Updated: 2018-12-27
Packaged: 2019-09-28 07:19:06
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,547
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17178389
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cabinbythesea/pseuds/cabinbythesea
Summary: Louis’ love for Harry has been years, some months, and even more days; this he knows for sure. He thinks it even could have been before these years, months, and days. The moon knew, so must the sun.





	vitamin

**Author's Note:**

> disclaimer: not real! fiction!
> 
> heyooo this has been sitting in my docs for a bit and I figured might as well get it out there. I think it may have its good moments ;)
> 
> as always, enjoy and thank you if you like it :)

**5\. for you**

“Harry,” Louis says in his most warnful tone.

Harry grins, wiggling his ridiculous brows. “Please.”

If it were anyone else, Louis would give them shit for wanting to casually take part in a pottery class, of all things. If it were anyone else, he would have rolled his eyes by now and turned them down immediately. If it were anyone else, he would have thought to himself  _ What kind of hippie-finding-myself-chakra-soul-searching bullshit is this guy going through? _

But it isn’t anyone else.

It's Harry.

Harry with his genuine interest in trying new things that Louis can’t really relate to. Harry with his pouty mouth and wide eyes begging him to fulfil his best friend duty and support him in his everchanging endeavours.

Louis sighs. He gives himself the luxury of falling back onto the couch, knowing that Harry will probably follow him there until Louis says yes.

Because Harry knows he will, is the thing. There is not a world, a  _ universe  _ even, where Louis would deny him of anything.

Louis watches with hooded eyes from this position and Harry rolls his eyes at him. He can be even sassier than Louis at times, his hippie persona at fault. Louis tells him as much, which just leads to another set of eye rolls.

“Lou,” Harry pleads, eventually plopping his body atop Louis' lax one. Louis doesn’t say anything, stubborn. Just watches Harry, waiting for his next move of convincement. Louis may be selfish in that way, but he allows himself this much.

Harry begins to trace the rope inked on Louis’ skin, running his fingers in small infinities. Louis could fall asleep just like this, he thinks, right now.

“Please.” Louis is not sure if it’s the slight press of lips against his wrist or the heat from their bodies finding one another, but he nods.

Harry does a little victory air punch and Louis takes the opportunity to grab him under the pits, Harry’s laughter immediate and consuming.

“Karma’s a bitch, innit?”

The next morning, at the ass crack of dawn, because when else would you get up on your day off, Harry come into his room with a fresh cup of tea.

He looks darling in just his trackies and hair tie. His eyes are gloomy with sleep and his hair looks like a mess but there is still no one else he rather have in his bedroom this early in the morning.

“Hm, tea,” Louis takes the cup gratefully, leaning back against the headboard and crosses his ankles. “‘Least you could do for forcing me awake at six in the morning.”

Harry picks Louis’ legs up to fit in his lap, takes a sip of his own tea. “It’s eight.”

Louis pokes his bare toe into Harry’s belly button. “Same difference.”

Harry pinches his ankle before pushing off the bed. Louis tries his best to not look at the way his back ripples when he stretches his arms over his head, tries to ignore the sleep-sweet curls at the nape of his neck. Tries.

“I’m gonna go shower your sticky toe jam off my stomach,” he scratches his belly button, “then we should probably go. So please,” he gives Louis a once-over, “try to  _ at least  _ remember to put on deodorant.”

Louis’ jaw drops, hurriedly setting his tea on the side table before jumping up for the attack. Harry, of course, sees it coming, if the way his eyes widen are anything to go by.

“You have the  _ audacity _ ,” Louis catches Harry right before the bathroom door slams in his face, “to  _ bully  _ me,” Louis digs his fingers into his hips, “when I am  _ kindly  _ and  _ compassionately _ ,” Harry’s ass pushes against the sink and his eyes sparkle, “supporting you in your artistic aspirations.”

Harry bites his lip. “Didn’t appear very supportive when I had to drag you out of bed to, god for bid, attend a pottery class with me.”

“Oh, please,” he bites the inside of his cheek, staring Harry in the eye, backing away and out of the bathroom, just loud enough for Harry to catch, “as if I wouldn’t go to the ends of the world with you.”

Harry’s face damn near splits in half.

“Harry,” Louis whispers from his position sat next to him.

Harry, of course, is too indulged in what the instructor leading the group is saying to endure any minute sentiment Louis has to offer. He’s got on this ridiculous painting robe whereas Louis just went for an old black tee. His hair, Louis observes, is growing back to the longer side, kept up in a tiny bun. Louis may be bored of this damn clay drying in his hands, but he is surely not bored with the way Harry bites his lip and moves his thumb against the rim of the pot.

“Louis!” Harry whisper-shouts and  _ oh, _ he’s talking to him.

“What?”

Harry gives him an incredulous look. “You said my name.”

Louis mentally pinches himself, regaining his composure that was taken by the pink of Harry’s mouth. “Oh, right. Sorry, love. I was just thinking about  _ Ghost, _ ” he sighs dramatically, leaning back a bit on his stool. He doesn’t fail to notice Harry’s glance down to his spread legs.

Harry bites his lip, flicking his eyes around like he always does when making a decision, and moves from his own stool to position himself to Louis’ front. Louis grabs his hips to steady him, knowing well he would fall into his own pot, well, more like ball of clay, really. 

“Scoot,” his bum rubs on Louis’ groin and he sucks in his cheeks.  _ You’ve felt this before. You hold him all the time. Breathe. _

He makes room for Harry between his legs, earning a hum in thanks. Harry proceeds to lean forward to try and fix Louis’ sorry excuse of pottery.

“I really like what you’re going for here,” Harry teases, “the lumpiness is very in for pot culture.”

“Oi, have at it, why don’t ya,” Louis speaks into his ear, allowing himself to press his back into his. He probably imagines the way Harry’s breath hitches.

“Are you not gonna help me?” He glances over his shoulder. His eyes sparkle and Louis only wishes for a second it was only for him they did that for.

He swallows the lump in his throat and rolls his eyes. “Should I start taking your shirt off, too?” He moves his hands to the front of Harry’s button up, undoing one button.

Harry elbows him in the rib. “That’s for after class, sir.”

 

**4\. for you**

A friday night, Louis is sitting at home,  _ alone,  _ and watching paint dry.

That’s not just an expression, either. Ernest and a handful of sisters were over earlier and finger-paintings were made for the gods. He never really had a reason to know what yellow, blue, and pink mixed together looked like, but now, he knows it is indeed one hundred and ten percent black.

Despite the splattered, colorful kitchen he should be wiping up, he rather be doing something more . . .  _ adult  _ for his friday night.

_H . . ._

_Lou._

_Let’s go to the drive-ins_

_Okay :) come get me_

And it’s as easy as that, really.

 

Harry gets in his car with a bag and a thick blanket around his neck. He’s got on thick sweats, Louis’ hoodie that he must have left at his, a beanie and scarf and he’s beaming at Louis like he has never seen a movie in his life.

“It’s not December, Haz,” Louis laughs, but puts the car in drive once Harry’s buckled.

“Good observation, Lou. It’s October last time I checked, too.” And if Louis didn’t know any better he would be surprised by the wit, but his innocent energy is in no way a show, Louis likes to think of it more as a tease; he goes from mouthy kitten to precious gentleman at lightning speed and Louis maybe kind of wants to spend his life catching up.

“Dick,” Louis glares but pats his thigh in greeting. “What’d’ya bring, babe?”

His eyes flutter at Louis’ hand on his thigh and Louis thinks  _ maybe,  _ but it only lasts a second because Harry’s back to beaming at him and unzipping his bag to proudly hold up a bottle of red.

“Ohh, would ya look at her,” he admires, “so  _ adult  _ of us. Drive-in and wine. Top notch, I’d say.”

“Oh, for sure,” Harry agrees, digging back into his bag to show Louis the contents of dried bananas (to which Louis gagged), goldfish crackers, and last but not least, freshly made cupcakes.

“How in the hell did you have time to make those? I only texted you twenty minutes ago.”

He bites the inside of his cheek. “Well, I was already making them before you texted. I was gonna bring them over either tonight or tomorrow . . . even put the strawberry jam in the center,” Harry states proudly.

Louis takes his hand and kisses his knuckle, watches his blush rise. “Awe, that was so thoughtful of you, H, for real.”

Harry rolls his eyes, but squeezes Louis’ hand back. “‘For real,’” he mocks.

He drops his jaw in shock, exaggerating, “How dare you make a mockery of me?”

“Very easily,” Harry shrugs. “Easy to when you look like that.”

And he is lucky they make it there without wrecking from the way Louis gives one hand the job of tickling him into oblivion. 

 

They got the perfect spot to view the screen. There aren’t too many cars around them to disturb and the radio signal is, “Just  _ superb,  _ Lou.”

Louis took the liberty of putting the seats down and laying out some blankets, but leaving enough to cover themselves with later. He set up pillows for some cushion and even dedicated a corner to snacks.

“Consider me impressed.” Harry comes up besides him, leaning against his side.

Louis wraps an arm around him and motions to the laid out snacks.  “After you, love.”

 

Harry takes the right side, just like he does the bed, which Louis finds more than endearing.

They probably end up talking and giggling more than watching the film, but it’s more than a nice time. They’re leaning against the pillows, half of Harry’s body against Louis’ chest and left leg thrown over his right.

Harry starts to squirm, though. “What’s wrong?” Louis moves aside his banana chips and slides his palm underneath Harry’s hoodie on his hips, touching his skin, warm to the touch.

“‘S hot.” Harry’s thrown the blanket off him ages ago.

“Okay, okay,” Louis moves to situate the blanket back over him. “Here, take the hoodie off and just get under the blanket. The hoodie is thicker than the blanket anyway, I’d know.” He winks at Harry, indicating that he indeed realized it was his clothing long ago.

Harry ignores tha jab and nods, peeling it off to reveal his bare skin, which he was not really expecting  _ bare  _ skin, maybe a t-shirt, but Louis is also definitely not one to complain (although Harry would beg to differ).

And he is selfish and wants nothing more than to feel Harry’s heat against his own again, so he pulls him down into his chest tighter than before, wrapping the blanket back around his shoulders.

“Mm. Better.” Harry hums, snuggling into the pit of Louis’ arm.

He has the gift of feeling the bareness of Harry’s arms and back in the moment and it’s softer than clean sheets, but it makes him ache for more. His tummy, legs, neck,  _ lips _ . . . .

“Lou?”

“Yeah, baby?”

He is looking up at him through long lashes and light eyes that Louis almost kisses him right then.  _ Almost. _

He thinks he catches it when Harry glances at his lips.

“I asked if you wanted some wine, yet.”

“Oh, yeah, yeah. I’ve got it.” He moves to find the wine, but Harry stops him, taking the hand that is not already on his hip.

“I like when you call me that, you know.”

Louis has to blink a few times because he feels dizzy without a sip of wine, feels foggy with him so close, but not nearly close enough.

He regains himself. “I know.”

Harry flicks his eyes around Louis’ face for a moment, before licking his bottom lip and nodding, allowing him to finally reach for the wine.

Louis’ heart feels heavy.

 

“This tastes like rosee,” Harry claims, his hand feeling like a ton resting over Louis’ heart.

He scrunches his brows at him. “It definitely doesn’t.”

They are facing each other now, paying even less attention to the movie than before. Louis couldn’t even tell you the name of the main character if you asked him.

But, what he could tell you is how secure Harry’s legs feel around his waist, that Louis loves this night more than any because he has got his hands on the sides of Harry’s hips. He could tell you that Harry has yet to remove a hand from his chest, right above his heart, and he is more than ecstatic about it. Louis could even inform you of how red Harry’s lips look, how unruly his hair is with the blanket bunched up against his shoulders and in the crevice of his neck. He thinks,  _ I’ve never wanted to be a blanket so bad. _

He moves his palms to Harry’s calves, trying to warm him. “You want your hoodie back?”

Harry gives him a little smirk. “It’s your hoodie.”

“I know. What’s mine is yours and all that,” Louis moves to find the clothing under the array of blankets scattered, but is stopped by a bump against his hip.

“Just-” He stumbles. “Keep doing what you’re doing. Don’t need it.”

The  _ Only need you  _ is unspoken.

Louis nods and moves his hand down Harry’s leg to his ankle. He dips a pinky underneath the joggers to rub over skin, daring. He glances up to gauge Harry’s reaction to find him looking at him with a glint in his eye and a bite to his lip.  _ Fuck, he’s too pretty _ .

“Wanna come closer?” Louis prays. For warmth reasons, of course.

Harry nods, because why would he not, and scoots himself closer so that their stomachs brush (amongst other things) and it’s nothing new, really. It just never gets old, is the problem.

He tangles his fingers in the drawstrings of Louis’ hoodie and he wishes it would be his hair that Harry’s fingers were interested in.

“Good movie, huh?” Which earns a well-deserved smack to Louis’ chest. If there were tension to begin with, it would have broken.

“I’ve been paying attention, unlike  _ some  _ of us.”

He raises a brow. “Is that so? I’m gonna have to conjure up a quiz, now, aren’t I?”

The corner of Harry’s mouth lifts. “ _ Or  _ we can just eat the cupcakes I so graciously made without any sort of quizzing.”

Louis frowns, taking the piss. “Now, what’s the fun in that?”

Harry hits him straight in the nose with frosting.

**3\. because of you**

_Game night, lads ! BYOBG - Bring Your Own Board Game (I’ve got the beer this time) ;)_

Louis sends it after Harry’s two attempts of convincing, but in all actuality, he would have done it at the first.

But seeing Harry stumble into his apartment at seven p.m. with six boxes stacked in his arms and an  _ I Voted!  _ sticker on his cheek, he lost all hope of denial.

“Woah there, voter,” Louis catches Chutes and Ladders tumbling out of his grasp just in time.

“Yes, I am a voter. Did you vote, Lou? You better have voted because -”

“Shh,” he shushes him, rolling his eyes in the process. Harry is very adamant on voting, as he should be. “Of course I voted, H. So, now that that’s over with, game time!”

He eyes him up and down quizzically. “You don’t like game nights. You find them boring, but we all really know that you just aren’t very good. A sore loser, some might say.” He’s got a quirk to his lip and Louis is having none of it. He can get under his skin just the same.

“A sore loser, huh,” he stalks closer to Harry, hands behind his back (for now). Louis sees when he begins to panic, setting down the games and backing himself against the counter, eyes frantically searching for an escape route.

“Lou,” he already pleads, but Louis’ having none of it. "Not again."

He gets even closer, shoes almost touching. “You beg me to host a game night for you and our friends. Me, being the absolute saint that I am, happily oblige.”

Harry snorts. “‘Happily.’”

“Oh, that’s strike one, mister.” Louis removes his hands from behind him to jab into the other’s hips. He tries to shy away from it by jumping up onto the counter, but hits his head on the cupboard in the process.

“Fuck,” his voice cracks and Louis’ hand gets to his head before Harry’s own.

“Oh, my god. Are you okay? Love, I’m so sorry I -” he cuts himself off, this is not about him. He just caused Harry to slam his head into a corner of wood before their game night, dammit.

“Louis. It’s fine, just, get ice maybe, please.” He moves Louis’ hand from his head and pushes him away towards the fridge.

“Okay, okay. Don’t move.” He wraps the ice pack in a paper towel so it’s not unbearably cold, and takes Harry’s hand in his own. “Here, let me.” He places it against where he thinks the damage is. “Right?”

Harry bites his lip from the sting of coldness, but nods.

He’s got his legs spread enough for Louis to fit between more comfortably as he holds the ice against his head. It takes him a second to notice Harry’s eyes on him. He does not look like he’s in too much pain, so the ice must be helping. Louis brings his knuckles to his lips in apology, again. “Way to ruin a fun night, huh.”

Harry rolls his eyes and crosses his ankles behind Louis. “Shut up. It’s not a big deal and basically numb now, anyway.” And if he is being a little bit dramatic, it’s acceptable because  _ he caused Harry pain. _

“Still sorry, though.”

Harry puts his hand behind his neck. Louis swallows, feeling his thumb rub against the skin of his neck. “Wasn’t your fault, okay? Like at all. Plus, it’s not a big deal. I hit my head all the time.” He must still be pouting so Harry takes Louis’ hand with the ice away from his head and sets it down before wrapping him in a hug. He places a kiss on his neck and Harry shakes his head. “You’re a dork.”

“Yeah,” he agrees, “I’m the fucking worst. Dorkest dork, I’d even say.”

Louis feels the giggle against his neck and just hugs him tighter. Always will hug him tighter. He feels a bite at his neck and grins.  _ Please don’t stop. Color me blue and purple  _ and all that nonsense.

Their faces pull away to look each other in the eye, but their bodies stay planted. “You get to pick the first game.” He brushes Harry’s hair behind his ear. It is getting noticeably longer again. Louis wants to swim in it, or something.

“Don’t I always?”

Because, really, he always does if Louis has anything to say about it. Every time Louis somehow makes an excuse to get Harry to choose the first game. Whether it be because Niall was late, so he obviously doesn’t deserve to, or because Zayn wore leather (Zayn always wears leather) so in spite, Zayn cannot.

“If I have anything to do about it,” he winks.

“Harry, that’s cheating!”

Harry puts his last card down in triumph. “Whatever do you mean, Niall?” Niall throws his cards in the air. One lands in Harry’s hair and Louis reaches over to remove it. It’s not that far of a reach. “That was my last card. Is that not how you win UNO?”

“That’s not how you win UNO when you cheat because Louis swapped cards with you, no!”

“I did no such thing, Niall!” Louis gasps. He moves closer to Harry and wraps him in his arms, revelling in the way he puts his full weight against him. Niall is sat on the other side of the coffee table but looks like he’s about to pounce any second now. “I would never cheat on something as serious as this!”

Harry’s back begins to move against his chest in a fit of giggles. Louis slides a hand under his shirt for a sign of suppressing the giggles, wanting to keep up the act for a smidge longer.

“Unbelievable . . . . Liam! Would you put up with this? I was about to  _ win _ !”

Liam is the epitome of unbothered, spread on the couch with his phone in his face. 

“What did you expect, bro?”

Niall rolls his eyes. “You tossers. I’m getting another beer.  _ And  _ choosing the next game.”

Harry goes into fits again.

Liam drives Niall home because he’s too drunk to handle himself. As Liam is dragging him out the door, a mantra of, “You fookin’ idiots! Couples can’t do game night together! No- no - t  _ fair _ !”

Louis glances at Harry then, sat on the couch with a slight blush to his cheek. They hear the door slam. Louis bites his lip, holds out his hand for Harry. “You stayin’?”

His mouth isn’t that red anymore, having finished the wine hours ago. He could drive home, if he wanted. Louis wants him to stay, of course he does. Wants to wake up wrapped in and around him, wants to kiss his forehead, neck,  _ lips  _ goodnight and make him tea in the morning.  _ Wants. _

“If the sky is blue . . . .” Harry shrugs with a sigh, allowing Louis to pull him up.

Louis brings him close, touching their noses. “Good thing it’s night and it’s black.”

He gets a well-deserved kick to the shin.

Harry takes Louis’ hand in his, dragging him towards the bedrooms like he owns the place. (He kinda does, to Louis).

There is something comforting in watching Harry drag him to his bedroom, a hope for something he’d want every night for the rest of forever.

To Louis’ dismay, he lets his hand go to spread eagle on the bed. His hair looks like a halo against the white sheets and his thighs look absolutely scrumptious in his jeans.

“Guess I’ll be sleeping in the tub, then,” Louis sighs. “Would probably be warmer, anyway, with you stealing the blankets and all.”

Harry scoffs. “Oh,  _ please  _ mister  _ I can’t sleep without your curls  _ and  _ Shit, Haz you’re like a human furnace, mate! _ ”

“Oh, you’re gonna get it for that one.” He springs on the bed, locking his fingers around Harry’s wrists and  _ tries  _ to ignore his mouth that’s literally right in front of him. It is almost as if Harry’s always jabbing at him unconsciously, urging him to  _ something  _ that Louis is not quite sure of.

Harry raises his brow with a bite to his lip. “Oo, can I, please?”

He has got a flit of a smirk on his lips, but his eyes don’t read the same. Not in the slightest. 

Louis feels a bit overwhelmed from the deepness in Harry’s eyes right then, the sound of his own heart, and even the tightness of his fingers on the pulse of Harry’s wrists. He moves away, laying down besides Harry. Louis almost jerks when he feels a pinky wrap around his own.

“Lou.”

Louis sees in his peripheral Harry’s head turn to watch him.

“Hm?”

“Do it next time, yeah?”

And it’s a whisper. Short as a restless sleep yet vivid as everything Harry is to Louis. He pinches his eyes shut, makes sure he heard him right. He knows he has when Harry squeezes his pinky tighter. It feels like a promise.

“Okay.”

 

**2\. thanks to you**

Nothing has changed since that night. If anything, they have been more attached to each other’s hip, as if that were even possible. 

Louis needed to run to the grocery for damn milk and cheese, but texted Harry that he doesn’t know the kind of cheese he should buy, so he  _ must _ go with him. Louis received a call at midnight on a thursday because Harry’s heat was not cooperating quite right, so how else was he supposed to keep warm without a cuddle?

_ Still haven’t cleaned my blankets :( _

Louis bites his lip. He can’t help but mess with him, anything to make him squirm.

_ Awee :( if only you had, oh idk, a washing machine to fix that right up  _

He pictures him now; Harry, laying in his bed, perfectly warm under his covers but wanting Louis there anyway. The thing is, by now, Louis knows Harry loves him. More than knows it. He just - hasn’t quite had it in him to admit it to himself. His subconscious knows just as well as Harry’s subconscious knows. It has just never been a thing that needed to be spoken aloud before, but it feels like they’re teetering on something that  _ needs  _ and Louis has faith that it will come naturally. Always does with them.

_ :( mean  _

Louis loves him and turns the telly off.

_ Whatever do you mean? You know I love you babe but I rather eat Niall’s foot than do more laundry than necessary  _

He goes to his room and finds his Vans, the matching ones that Harry got them for his twenty-fourth, those years ago. The phone pings.

_ Pls I would never let you touch my laundry . . . god knows what you’d ruin  _

_ Hmm okay. why are you messaging me again ?? did you need something ? _

Louis zips up his coat and grabs his keys.

_ I have this itch on my back I can’t quite reach  _

He almost forgets the most important thing.

_ Omw, pet xx. gonna roll one for us right quick _

_ <3 don’t deserve you  _

Louis can’t believe how untrue that is.

He finds Harry in his bed.

The telly’s on and he has got some hair pushed back in a bun. What he really notices though, are his legs, bare. And not bare as in he has no pants on, but bare as in  _ shaved  _ bare.

“You shaved your legs.”

Louis has yet to enter the doorway.

Harry notices him then and grins, crossing his legs at the ankles and takes a bite of, for god’s sake, a celery stick, at two in the morning. He pats the spot to the left of him, his side.

He shrugs. “Yeah. Figured I’d do you a favor for when you’re keepin’ me warm.”

Louis swallows hard and nods. Swallows down how he is just so shamelessly himself and unknowingly making Louis so  _ proud  _ with every little thing he does.

It’s a hard pill to swallow, but it is even harder when he sheds off his own shoes and jacket to get into the sheets next to him. Even harder of a pill when he presses his clothed leg to Harry’s bare one. Even _harder_ when he rubs his palm along his thigh, curious more than anything.

Harry’s watching his every movement and Louis feeds off this charge between them, loves it almost more than he loves Harry. It’s so much, but never just enough.

“I cuddle you all the time, yunno. Your normal hairy legs don’t make me want y- want to cuddle you any less.” He disregards his mistake and proves his point by pressing his thumb into a spot Harry has missed.

Harry clicks his tongue, moving his body down an inch to nuzzle his way beneath Louis’ arm. He just wraps himself in between Louis and it’s another part of Harry that makes him insanely frustrated. Makes him want to scream  _ Hey! I love you more than fucking anything! Ever!  _ into an endless void.

“I know that. Just liked the way it feels ‘s all.” He runs his pinky against Louis’ hand that’s on his thigh. “Do you not like it?”

Louis has to scoff, pinches his skin to watch the way Harry’s eyes squint and his cheeks dimple. “You’re a little shit.” Harry quickly turns his face into a pout and meets Louis’ eyes. There’s a gleam there that pulses his heart. “You know I love it. How could I not?”

His cheeks go back into a dimple and he presses his lips against the corner of Louis’ mouth, if only for a few seconds.

“Now, where’s my present?”

Smoking with Harry is probably Louis’ favorite thing. And, also Harry’s. He just - just looks so open and  _ light  _ that Louis wants to hold him and keep him in his arms and tell him  _ stay with me, right here forever. _

“Your eyes get so bad.” Harry presses his thumb under his lid. Louis feels himself close his eyes and lean his head into Harry’s palm.

Louis hums.

“Not bad, I mean, like, red. So red.” He corrects.

Louis hums again and takes Harry’s other hand in his palm. They’re sat across each other on the bed, Louis’ back leaning against the headboard and he keeps telling himself he needs to tell Harry to lean over here too or else his back will hurt later, but he keeps forgetting. Too indulged with the pads of Harry’s fingers against his cheek and tickling at his palm. “Know what you mean, babe.”

Louis imagine Harry nods, but then Harry stops touching him entirely and Louis panics, eye flying open, probably embarrassingly so. “Where’d’ya go?”

“Shh,” Harry giggles, presses his finger to Louis’ lips before walking over to his desk. “One sec.”

Louis does not like the sound of that. “No.” Louis makes an effort to spread his legs open so that Harry would maybe have no choice but to crawl into him. “You-” he begins, but kind of gets lost in the back of Harry’s thighs for a moment, “need to be here. With me. On me, preferably.”

Harry laughs at that and looks at him over his shoulder. “Be patient.”

He groans, throws his head back. The ceiling looks okay he thinks, but Harry looks sooo much better. “I know that whatever you’re doing is definitely probably very important to you and I support you in all - actually almost all - endeavours, but -” he feels Harry crawl back in, just where Louis likes him best, “perfect. It’s about time -” he lifts his head up to see Harry grinning foolishly with an array of markers in his hands.

“Tattoo time,” Harry says like it explains everything in the world.

Louis feels him straddle his waist and that is it, really. “Sure, yeah, tattoo time. We can have tattoo time whenever you want if this is how I get you.”

Harry untwists a black one with a pop. He’s got a curl he keeps blowing away, so Louis tucks it back into his bun. Louis does not even think he notices the gesture, too enthralled with the markers. “Shut up. You can get me like this all the time.”

Louis kisses his cheek because he wants to. “I’ll hold you to that.”

Harry’s cheeks may flush a tint. “I wouldn’t expect any less. Now, give me your arm.”

Louis complies. “Are these gonna come off easy?”

“I don’t know. But, they  _ are  _ vegan and toxin free!”

“Of course they are,” he smiles. “What are you givin’ me?”

“Not sure,” he ghosts his fingers over Louis’ wrist. “This seems to be the only available spot.”

Louis bites the inside of his cheek. “Appears so.”

“Any requests?”

“A kiss, perhaps?”

And Louis says it quicker than he should, but fuck it, because he meant it and they both know it.

Harry doesn’t even appear that shocked, really. Just flares his nose and glances at Louis before going back to dancing his fingers over his pulse point.

But then, “Maybe if you give me one, too.”

“Give you a tattoo or a kiss?”

Harry looks stumped, as if he has to pick between one  _ or _ the other, for god’s sake Louis would kiss him until his lips fell off. “Tattoo first, please,” and he says it straight to Louis’ lips.

“Hm, seems fair.” Louis brings a palm to his waist because he needs to touch him. “Tat me up, first, then.”

He nods. “Think I wanna do something small first.”

“Oh, is there gonna be more?”

“Well, of course.” Harry looks affronted. “Gonna go with ‘petal’ here. ‘Cos ‘s what you call me.” He writes the word so it spans across Louis’ wrist. It is sloppy and smudged from where he messed up, but Louis loves it more that way, he thinks.

“Thanks, petal,” he winks and Harry licks his lip.

“Do me, now.”

It doesn’t take Louis long to figure it out.

“Lay down for me.” He does so so quick that Louis’ concerned with all his blood rushing straight to his head. “No, baby. Like this - the pillows - yeah. Don’t want you hurting yourself.”

They are positioned so that Louis hovers over him, markers strewn around Harry’s head like some kind of halo. Harry’s staring at him and Louis loves it, lives to feel his eyes on him, in any way. His hand is also at the back of Louis’ neck, whether he knows it or not, and his fingers are scratching there.

“Take the best care of me, yunno.” His eyes are all over the place and his face looks so  _ soft _ .

Louis leans closer to kiss the beauty mark on his neck. “Always. Gonna take this off, okay?”

He just nods, looking so dazed and fuck, Louis is barely touching him.

He unbuttons Harry’s shirt, leaving it spread open around his shoulders. He moves down a bit so that he can work more effectively, but Harry’s fingers don’t leave his hair, anchoring him.

“Think this is a good spot, yeah?”

It’s right above his heart. Louis might imagine the way it quickens beneath the tips of his fingers, but he thinks he doesn’t, not this time. “Mhm.”

He draws a circle. “This one really describes you best, I’d say. Or, maybe me. Us. I don’t know.” He continues.

“Better not be a penis, Louis, or help me god.”

He shushes him. “And . . . voila. The sun.”

Harry looks down at his chest and Louis feels honored that he gets to watch the way Harry’s chin doubles when he laughs just then. “That’s so cheesy, Lou.”

“Hey, now. I think you look beautiful. Compliments you well.”

Harry drags him up to their previous position by his hair. “I think  _ you  _ compliment me well.”

“Are you saying I should’ve drawn me instead?”

He rolls his eyes with a smile, but there is a hint of frustration there, Louis can tell.

“I’m saying that you’re - ugh -” Harry tries to maneuver his body. 

“Hey,” Louis stops him with a touch to his cheek. “Hey, tell me what you need. What’s the matter?”

Harry huffs and his face still looks flushed from the weed. “Closer.”

Louis tries to understand. “You want to be closer?”

“Yeah, fuck. I’m sorry. I sound - sound like a bloody idiot right now. Don’t know if I wanna cry or laugh.” He wipes his hand over his face in frustration. Harry can get into these bad highs sometimes, but Louis is always there, always is when it comes to Harry.

“Okay, love. Wrap your legs around - there ya go.” Louis gets closer, settles one hand to cup Harry’s face and the other dancing within his hair. He presses their noses together. “Breathe together.” Harry inhales and then exhales against Louis’ cheek. “There we go, there’s my petal.”

Harry’s legs tighten so that Louis falls flush against him. “Closer.” Harry moves his face down a bit to nudge into the nape of his neck. 

Louis rubs fingers into his scalp and presses kisses along his ear lobe.

“Thank you. Always know what I need.” Louis feels the words more than he hears them.

“Of course. Give whatever and forever for you.”

Harry twitches his hips and that is when Louis feels it. “Oh, god.” Feels the hardness in Harry’s pants. Knows that it’s not going to be long until something of his own occurs.

“H, darling, I -”

“Louis, please. Please don’t say that when I - fuck. Sorry, sorry, sorry.”

“Stop.” Louis presses back down into Harry. He needs to know.

Harry’s mouth falls open against his neck and lets out a sharp exhale. “Lou, I -”

“No. Do you feel that? I know you do.”

Harry tightens his legs around him. “Yeah.”

“Good. Now, remember what you told me last time?”

Harry bucks up like he can’t help himself and Louis cannot believe his luck with this boy. “Fuck. Yes, yes I remember.”

“What did you tell me, then?”

“Told you -” his tooth digs into Louis’ neck a bit “told you to do it.”

“Okay, that’s right.” Louis feels like he cannot catch his damn breath. Everything and not enough happening all at once. “So we can do it. You and I. Want you to.”

“Yeah?” He bucks up again, Louis meets him this time.

“Yeah.” Their eyes finally meet and Harry just kisses him hard. Hard, yet soft around the edges with his buttery tongue. It’s everything Louis hoped for and more and he thinks he may come in his pants from this alone. 

“Lou. Need to -” his movements begin faster, sharper.

“Oh, I know, sweetheart. I know. Want you to get off for me, okay?”

Harry yelps at that, eyebrows scrunched and, what looks to be a tear, running out from beneath his eye. Louis kisses it away. “Fuck.”

“I know, I know. You look so - fucking - pretty -” Louis initiates with each thrust against one another.

“So long -” Harry’s mumbling and Louis cannot believe this is happening, that it feels this good, but god forbid anything stops him now.

“I know, I know,  _ shit. _ ” He gives a tug to Harry’s hair because he  _ knows,  _ knows he likes it.

Harry exposes his neck and it’s like it has been waiting for forever for Louis’ mouth. He presses a kiss to Harry’s pulsepoint, asking for permission. Harry only pushes Louis’ head down deeper into his neck.

“ _ Oh,  _ Lou you’re - you’re gonna make me come in my pants. Oh my god -  _ Louis. _ ” Harry looks frantic.

“I am not far behind you, babe. Promise next time will make you come so much better, way better than this.” Harry’s breath hitches onto a whine at the promise of a  _ next time  _ and his body shudders, quick, but longer than a shutter of a camera. It’s the most beautiful thing Louis’ probably ever seen, he thinks. “Oh, yes. There you are, baby,” and then Louis’ following close behind, not standing a chance with the way Harry’s looking at him with his quiet murmurs of  _ Come, Lou. Please. Need you to. _

 

**1\. us**

“I can’t believe - “ Harry proclaims after they both catch their breathing and Louis’ gotten them a cloth to wash up, as if they didn’t just completely trash their pants. "Been waiting for so long."

Louis shakes his head, though. “I knew.”

Harry squints up at him.

“You were always it for me.”

**Author's Note:**

> twitter: hltwink


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